Midnight Massacre: Birth of the Volturi Twins
by Tellytubby101
Summary: Alec and Jane. A mysterious sibling duo. Two halves of a whole. This is their painful story of the horrific night their young lives were changed forever more and how they became one of the most powerful creatures in the vampire world. Canon. Two shot.
1. Humanity

_**Midnight Massacre: Birth of the Volturi Twins.**_

**A/N: Okay, so I had a bit of writer's block for my other story (_Crescent Moon_) when I came up with this. Jane and Alec have always piqued my curiosity. Stephenie Meyer gave a brief explanation of their past, but I found it inadequate…**

**_Q. Are Jane and Alec related? How did they join the Volturi?_**

**_A. Alec is Jane's twin brother. They were burned at the stake for witchcraft when Aro stepped in. (By "stepped in" I mean, "slaughtered the whole village," of course). Aro already had his eye on these two, but he wanted to let them age before he took them. The villagers forced his hand, which sort of pissed him off. The fire she endured before Aro saved her influenced the shape Jane's talent took._**

**… So I decided that I would write a more detailed version of events. All names (apart from all of the vampires) are made up and so is the date. But I think it fits everything needed.**

**A huge shout out to _HighViscosity _! My unofficial beta (but she might as well become official) and awesome historian! She made this so much better than I could have hoped for. What a woman. :-)**

**Enjoy the two-shot!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. But I think I did a pretty good job at explaining the pasts of Jane and Alec.**

*******

**JanePOV – 1500's**

The cricket was twitching frantically as I lowered the burning twig nearer and nearer to its legs. Lucky for me I had it pinned down on the table, stuck within a small box, otherwise it would have escaped by now. Teasing the helpless creature, I took the fire away before slowly lowering it nearer to its head.

"Ahh, Jane stop torturing it!" Alec cried out, interrupting my fun. He was pouting, his face contorted into a mask of disappointment. He was just outside, washing some clothes in the creek out back.

"Why? I asked. "It's stupid." We've had this conversation many times, but I never understood his point. It was an insect, just a silly dumb insect and nothing more. It was a plaything of sorts, for me to enjoy at my own leisure.

"It's a creature that has perfect awareness of their surroundings! It knows what's going own! Why can you not understand? He deserves life like anyone else," he explained in a gravelly voice.

Scoffing, too annoyed to fight back, I turned back to the cricket. But it was gone. Alec was near the window, letting it go. It chirped fitfully and disappeared.

"Alec! What made you do that?" I whined. Now I'd have to find another thing to play with. Growling under my breath, I shuffled off to the fireplace to throw the burnt out twig away.

"Mother is a healer, and she wouldn't like that! She helps people and animals, we should follow in her footsteps," replied Alec in a somewhat tired and frustrated voice.

I snorted. Mother _was_ a healer; she used a variety of herbs to cure ailments and illnesses. But that wasn't what the villagers called her behind her back. _Witch_, they whispered in voices as low as the wind.

They used to give her all due respect, until the old lord died and his nephew replaced him. Miller was a devout Christian. _Women_, he says, _should stay in the home and kitchen_. That applied to my mother as well. The old lord was once saved by mother and out of gratitude, allowed her to continue her "heathenous" activities. Yet Miller did not feel this way at all. And as my mother had an amazing amount of knowledge on herbs and vegetation, more than any _man_, he began to spread the rumours of _witch_ throughout the community. He had to gain their support before he could convict her of the burnable offence.

Mother was a supporter of the new way of Christianity, and the teachings of Martin Luther, who had visited the little village in her childhood. As Miller was a devout follower of the ways of old, he was beyond frustrated that he could not convert her to "the right path". Her faith fanned the fires of his belief that she was a demonic creature.

She continued her practise of healing the ill and weak, but where she was met with affection and adoration, was now faced with harsh stares and whispers. Why the villagers were so gullible, I'll never know. There was still a minority of people who did not believe the claims, but their numbers were dwindling.

The new leader was so intent on convicting our mother he was actually planting evidence. Blood was smeared on our gardens, while decapitated chickens littered the grass. Bottles filled with unidentifiable objects lined our shelves, presumably to fill the bill of being witch ingredients for potions.

Alec and I were constantly vigilant. We made sure that all these incriminating pieces of "evidence" disappeared before anyone else saw them. I hated the man. His plight had to be more than religion. He had a grudge against mother since she could not cure his daughter so many moons ago.

It was not her fault! The girl was dying of demons in the gut. There was no medicine strong enough to cure such an ailment. Mother would never let anyone she could save die. Not only was she passionate, but ever since father passed away, she pledged to never let another feel the pain of loss, so long as God willed it.

Sighing, I stirred the stew above the fire. Alec was tending to some herbs that mother grew in pots, necessary for cures. He was intent on learning the ways of a healer, to follow in mother's footsteps. It was once my dream too, but times change…

*******

**AlecPOV**

Staring blankly at the green leaves and oddly shaped flowers, I let my mind wander. The smell of rabbit stew swirled in the air around me, making my mouth water and stomach growl in anticipation.

Food was getting more and more scarce; the villagers were neglecting to pay mother as much as she was used to. Father would have shown them a thing or two, but he was gone, and Jane was vainly attempting to take his place. She caught the rabbits that were being used in the pot in the backyard.

She had not exactly intended on them to be made into a meal, as she was keener on hurting them for recreational purposes. I hated how she hurt defenceless animals. Their bodies were covered in cuts before I got to them, screaming and shrieking in agony. The poor things, all I wanted to do was take their hurts away. Food was necessary though, so I killed them quickly and painlessly. Pain was not something I usually relished.

Jane used to detest needless animal cruelty. Apart from once throwing a rock at a stray cat, she never went out of her way to hurt something. But since the rumours began, slowly destroying mother's reputation, she sought to need to blame something. As she was too weak to physically confront the villagers, Miller mainly, she put her anger out on the animals and insects that live around these parts.

The torture grew worse after children in the town began to attack us. Usually, I was able to protect the both of us from the worst, but one day, she was cornered and I wasn't there. I found her bloody and traumatised. She never spoke about it, but I knew it changed her. I knew it was my fault – I should have protected her more! Because she never talked about it, I could not get back at the people who did this. In her own way, she was trying to cope, using other creature's pain as an outlet for her own.

I usually got to the creatures and killed them or let them go before much more could be done to them. Jane hated when I did that, but never hated me. We were everything to each other, never having any other playmates. No children wanted to play with us, even before Miller took over. We were called the "Witch Twins". It was uncommon for even one twin to survive childbirth, so the two of us being remarkably healthy since birth led to whispers of "Devil Magic" in our veins.

Mother always said that God had something special planned for us, but I doubted that more often than of late. My sister and me being different seemed to bring nothing good into our lives. I had difficulty believing God had made us any more important than the other children in the town.

The front door creaked open, and I quickly ran to her, eager to see my mother. She was just at the Samuel family, trying to cure their goats of a rash. The Samuels believed she was a witch but were desperate for assistance for their animals. I was tempted to insist to mother to let them suffer, but her heart was too pure for that. How the townsfolk could accuse her of being a monster, I'll never know.

Such hypocrites! The lot of them all are. Constantly they call upon her for help, but they beg her not to let anyone else in the town know that they went to her. All of them disgust me to my core.

Weary and tired, she was still able to crack a smile at the sight of Jane and me. The long hours of waking at dawn to collect herbs and late nights of stewing the medicines were beginning to show on her. Wrinkles lined her face more than any other women of her age and the bags beneath her eyes were getting darker and darker. Her grey-streaked red hair felt limp onto her shoulders, which were sagging with exhaustion.

As she sunk into the rocking chair, Jane hurriedly poured some soup for mother to eat, making sure to put lots of meat in her bowl, but she waved it off.

"Darling, you can have it. The Samuel family gave me a feed, but I must say the food is disagreeing with my insides," she explained drowsily.

Jane looked sceptical, but mother gave her a stern look, and she began to hungrily gulp down the food. I turned back to mother and said, "Mama, have you taken some of the medicine for belly aches?"

"Smart child, thank you for the thoughtfulness. I have, I have, but it seems not to be working," she told me while stifling a yawn. "Darlings, it seems I need a good night's rest, my head is pounding."

She got up and kissed us both lightly on the head before making her way to the only bedroom. Before she left the room, she said sleepily, "I love you both dearly." We reciprocated with our own mutters of love and adoration.

Sighing, I poured myself a bowl of soup and ate it hurriedly, trying to displace the anxious knot in my stomach. There was something bad awaiting us on the horizon…

*******

Mother was dead. She was dead. Her body was cool on the straw mattress. I tried everything to wake her, but there was no response. She left us not half an hour ago. Her soul must have found rest in Heaven during that time.

My face was streaked with tears as I sobbed quietly. Jane has always been more vocal than I, and her cries were similar to wails and screeches. Both our hearts were tearing apart. How could this have happened? It was not her time. We were too young to be left alone, and the only option left to us now was for Jane to be married off and for me to become an apprentice of some kind.

But there was no way I wanted to be separated from my sister, and I knew the feeling was mutual. We had no relationships outside this family. It used to be mother, Jane and me. That was no more… and no one would take us in, of that I was certain. All that we had was one another.

Jane was never one for hugs for displays of affection or love, but now she gripped my body tightly, using my thin shirt as a handkerchief for her tears. My arms were wrapped firmly around her frame, trying vainly to hold everything together, even as I was breaking apart. My body was shaking in the agony of losing my mentor, the light in the darkness, and the woman who loved us both unconditionally. I tried to suppress the shudders to no avail.

There was a forceful knocking on the door, but we both ignored it. This was a private moment. A few more minutes of mourning before we would respectfully move the body. A fresh wave of tears trickled down my face as I realized that I referred to my mother as a _body _now and nothing more. Her soul, her life, her very presence was gone.

The front door slammed open, and I vaguely realized that several men have entered the house. Shocked, Jane and I looked up into the cold faces of the men. They stared at mother's body in disgust. I scowled as I recognised Miller was in the group. _What in the world was Miller doing in our cottage?_

"Here are the Witch Twins! Look at the proof! They have killed their own mother; there is no stopping the evil! They must burn!" he yelled at the gathering crowd.

"What? We would never harm mama!" cried out Jane defiantly. "She died in her sleep!"

The town doctor, second only to mother in helping and curing the ill, was currently inspecting the corpse. I only noticed him then, otherwise I would have protested his nearness to the body.

_What were all these people doing? _They were blatantly disrespecting a recently deceased person, who had helped almost everyone in this room in one way or another.

He got up slowly, and turned his dull blue eyes to Miller. "Poisoned," was all the doctor said, before Miller interrupted with accusations of my sister and I being the spawn of the Devil.

But all I could hear was a buzzing noise in my ear. _Poisoned_? But, how was that even possible? I thought back and remembered how mother said she ate at the Samuel's house. As I opened my mouth to protest and explain that we were not the culprits, I felt heavy, sweaty arms tearing my sister and me apart. She screeched loudly and yelled in protest; we did not want to be separated at such a time, now or ever. The anonymous arms were carrying our bodies away and I realized we were heading towards the town square.

There were two massive piles of sticks in the square with a single pole standing erect in the middle of each. It seemed we'd been convicted already. Wrongly convicted of practising black magic. Wrongly convicted of murder. Yet we had to face the consequences.

We were witches in the eyes of the townsfolk. _It was a set-up! We're innocent! _I wanted to cry out, but someone gagged me with a piece of dirty linen. Jane was crying out, but the sound was greatly muffled by the cloth forced down her throat. Our arms and legs were being bound together tightly to the pole. It was too late for resistance.

And the punishment for being found out as a witch?

It was death by burning. We had to suffer the flames to purify our souls.

*******

**JanePOV**

My arms were being lashed together, and it was much too tight. It was silly of me to be concerned of such a minor pain when a much larger amount of agony was awaiting my brother and me on the horizon.

_What in the world happened? Why was God doing this to us? Wasn't he meant to be benevolent and all loving? Maybe Miller was right and He didn't like the Luther way of thinking…_ _Was He punishing us for it? Was He angry with us and showing His wrath?_

One minute, we were mourning the untimely death of our mother; next we were told that it was murder. Before we had any recovery time from that new piece of information, we were being accused of being the killers and of being witches.

I struggled more than Alec; he was still in shock. This could not be happening. _This could not be happening_. I chanted it over and over in my head. My sub-conscious knew that struggling was futile, yet I persisted with it anyway. I wasn't ready to die. But what did I have to live for? Apart from my brother, there was nothing and Alec was being murdered along with me.

The only thing keeping my struggles up was the instinct to survive. Or maybe it was God's way of telling me I wasn't meant to go yet. The man tightened the bounds around my ankles even tighter than my wrists. It hurt so much that I screamed, but they took no notice.

Glancing over at Alec, he was beginning to struggle with his captors, trying to prove our innocence with muffled words. But I knew it was useless. Miller had a vendetta against us, and this was his revenge. I wouldn't be surprised if _he_ turned out to be the murderer. His eyes were bright with excitement and anticipation as he watched our struggles.

He was grinning madly, sometimes pausing to turn to the people and re-enforce the notion of us being witches with lies and false words. His speeches were met with cheers. The town loved to see a burning. So did I… when I was not being used as fuel to the fire. How ironic the situation was becoming.

The entire time, I was still sobbing non-stop. I couldn't watch the angry and pleased expressions of the villagers any more. Turning my head a little to the right, I saw the sun breaking over the mountains. It would be my last sunrise an it was beautiful.

My head snapped to the right of its own accord, as I smelled smoke, the easily recognisable smell of burning wood. I realized that Miller had set fire to my pile of sticks. The people of the town were cheering as the flames licked at my feet. I cringed away instinctively, but movement was restricted for me.

Stinging flames tickled my feet. But it was far off from being a pleasurable experience. The heat was boiling my blood and I could feel the skin blistering and peeling. Already it hurt beyond what words, and I wasn't anywhere close to the release of death. Looking towards the heavens, trying to think through the pain, I asked of God, _What did I do to deserve this? Mother, if you're up there, are you watching? Why won't you help me? WHY?_

_I AM BURNING ALIVE! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE ANY OF THIS? MOTHER, WHY AREN'T YOU HELPING? OH GOD, THE BURNING! PLEASE, HELP ME!_

In the corner of my eye I could see Alec straining against his bindings, as he tried to get to me. He had stopped crying, but there was new pain to his eyes as he watched me burn. He paid no attention to the fire beginning beneath him. It was like all he wanted was my freedom. The pain was intense. We were literally being cooked alive. Barbequed. Roasted. Grilled.

Screaming over and over again, I lost control. There was too much pain. My legs were getting charred black and blisters were forming on my hips. Then with a gasp, I noticed could barely feel anything. There was such a pain overload that all my senses seemingly shut down.

A small part of me was thinking that I had gone insane from the pain, but a larger part was questioning God's hand in all this. Was He trying to help? But if He really wanted to help, he'd get me out of this!

The smoke filled the air and I was choking on it, drowning in the smoke. My eyes brimmed again with tears, trigged by the burning smoke in the air. I lifted my head to the heavens and looked at the sunrise. The last thing I wanted to see. It was gorgeous.

I wondered awaited me after death. Heaven? Hell? Would I be judged before the Lord himself or be thrown aside, not even worthy of attention? I prayed for what was sure to be my last time and prayed to God that somehow, something good would happen, if not to me, then at least to Alec.

The air was suddenly filled with screaming. The blurred shapes and vague outlines of the people in front of me were scattering. They were being scared off by something, judging by the intensity of the screams.

But it did not matter. Alec and I were doomed.

Closing my eyes, I waited impatiently for the relief of death. _Hopefully, I'll see mama and papa again…_

*******

**AlecPOV**

The fire licked at Jane's ankles and my heart ripped apart once again as I heard her muffled scream. I took no notice of Miller setting alight the fine beneath my feet; all I wanted to do was free my sister, to end her agony and pain. It was too much to watch her screech and writher in agony, but I couldn't look away.

Yelping, I turned my head to see the fire at my feet. But the burns I was receiving were no match to the pain of what my sister was enduring. Her legs were already burning fiercely and tears made little tracks on her soot-covered face. She was coughing over and over again, the thick smoke making it difficult for me to see her.

Was this a trial that God is forcing us through? If it is, the Lord surely has a sick sense of humour. I didn't know how much longer that I could hold on for. From the waist down, I felt nothing but a dull stinging sensation. Even I knew that was a bad sign. Nothing could be done though.

Looking to the heavens, I screamed the best I could through my gag, and asked God why he was doing this to us. Asking if mother and father was there. Never had my faith wavered as much as it was doing now. Surely there could be no God. If He were really there and all-powerful, he'd save my sister and me. Was it that God was all-powerful, yet uncaring or was it that He was caring and benevolent, yet weak?

Struggling once more at the bindings, I knew it was all too late. But I tried anyway. My chest heaved with the effort of breathing in the soot and smoke, and my eyes burned. Coughing, I tugged uselessly on the ropes over and over again, begging for mercy on my sister with stifled cries for help.

The strap of cloth blocking my mouth loosened enough for me to yell out words with meaning. Turning frantically to the butcher, I cried agonisingly, "Our mother helped ease your pain so many times. You had witnessed our obvious love for one another. SO WHY AREN'T YOU COMING TO OUR AID?" He looked away, his face etched with slight guilt and shame. Yet he did not move.

My cries were interrupted with shrieks and groans of pain. Also, my head was getting clouded with the smoke, making it hard to think. Nevertheless, I tried again.

"All of you have been fixed by my mother at one time or another. There were even times I was the one rushing to your aid! YET YOU ARE WATCHING MY SISTER AND I BURN! Where is your compassion? WE ARE TWO INNOCENT CHILDREN! Though we have assisted so many of you, none of you are helping us?"

Before I could scream any more, pain rent through my spine and I was growling and groaning with abandon. Looking up, the scene before me was blocked slightly with smoke and the tears in my eyes, but I could still see the crowd stirring.

None of them came to help, but my words had obviously troubled them. I spoke nothing but the truth. The truth obviously did nothing for these people. They seemed fine with letting us burn, all on the idea – no, the superstition – that my sister and me were witches. What person would do that?

Screams pierced the air, but I payed them no mind. Unless one of mother's supporters was rushing to our aid, then all was meaningless, absolutely meaningless. Anyway, it was already too late for Jane. Vaguely realizing the townsfolk were scattering around us, I looked up curiously.

It was an angel, surely, that was walking towards me. He walked with such grace, as though he was floating above the ground – or did the flames tearing at my body cause this hallucination? His bone white hair whipped around his face as he rushed towards my sister and I. Face contorted in anger, it was still the most beautiful things I had ever seen. He was so devastatingly beautiful, everything paled in his presence. The nameless person was no less than an angel.

In a matter of seconds, he was in front of my sister, hastily extinguishing the flames. Such speed was surely inhuman. Through the haze of numbness and pain, I managed a smile. They were saving my sister. Unfortunately, the more logical part of my mind kicked in and told me that she would surely die, judging from the intensity of her burns. As the stranger ripped off her bounds and gently held her in his arms, another thought occurred to me.

Maybe they were the messengers of God, taking us up to the heavens for judgement. It would explain a lot – the beauty, the speed. Maybe mother and father sent them to look after us. I hoped so. But if they could only choose one, I was glad it was Jane.

Currently the unknown angel was bent over her frame, I think he was whispering in her ear. His body was hiding most of her from view, but hopefully she was receiving some medicinal aid, to ease her pain. If there were angels, then surely there could be hope for Jane.

A strange scuffling sound made me turn my head. As my eyes widened, I realized I was receiving attention from my very own angel. He was similar to the other one, except with black hair. Busy ripping the bindings from my feet and hands, I couldn't analyse him too well. The pain was beginning to return everywhere in torrents. My hands were freed, and they stung madly as the blood rushed back into them.

I could fight no longer. It was all too tiring. So I collapsed into the stranger's arms. My head rolled and I leaned it against the anonymous man, and I noticed then how overwhelmingly sweet and enticing his scent was. I inhaled deeply. It was like primroses and violets. It was like cinnamon and daisies. There was no scent like it in the world that I knew of.

His arms and torso were as cold as the ice on a lake in the middle of winter. Shivering slightly, I wrapped my arms around myself in an effort to preserve warmth. All I wanted was sleep, some oblivion from the rising agony that I was experiencing in my lower body. There was peace in this stranger's arms, but I wanted an escape from the pain.

Loud screams pierced the silence. How odd. Only then did I register the town was as quiet as a dormouse. Cocking my head to the side, listening in curiosity, I suddenly realised they were the cries of Jane. Her cries during the flames were nothing, _nothing at all_ in comparison to this.

What in God's name were they doing? Struggling to turn, I could only see the white haired angel standing a little bit away from Jane's flailing body, his back facing me. Her limbs were jerking around, and she seemed to be in utter agony, as though the fires of hell were burning around her.

Weren't angels meant to bring peace and love? My black haired angel tensed, as though he was going to leap at any moment. Jane screeched again, and this time I made a move to help her. Even if it killed me, I would help her.

But the unknown creature stopped me, arms tightening around me in an iron grip. For the first time, I saw directly into his eyes. The irises were a dull red, hauntingly beautiful, sending shivers down my spine. The eyes that were burning with a hunger, so strange, so _evil_, it definitely could not be eyes of an angel.

My instincts began to yell at me to move, but I did nothing. What could I do anyway? My legs were so burned they left me immobile. The twisted feeling in my gut got more desperate. They were screaming, yelling, and commanding me to run, to escape. But there was nothing I could do. Suddenly the reassuring feeling that I was feeling in his arms left me, and my heart sped up as I began to feel fear.

Turning around, I saw the town was charred and lifeless bodies littered the streets. Scrunching my eyebrows, I glanced around, noticing that there were no other people here that were alive apart from my sister and me. The scene before me was like hell. My only living loved one was crying out in agony and I couldn't help. Everything around me was symbolic of death.

Angels couldn't go into hell, could they?

"This is going to hurt," the angel hugging me whispered. It was a lilting, tinkling voice. Not only was this angel a sight for the eyes, but a saviour for other senses too. Sounds and smells better than any mere mortal should. His cool breath tickled my ear, but I soon forgot that as he bit down hard on my neck.

Progressively, methodically, he moved to my arms and ankles, but I barely registered the fact. Like a poison, liquid fire was igniting my veins, spreading from the bite points. Tears welled and overflowed in my eyes as scream were ripped from me against my will.

The fire was all consuming, my heartbeat sped up to an unnatural pace. It seared every vein in my body. Burning at the stake was no comparison to the pain I was feeling right now. Would it ever end? Time was meaningless to me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the intensity of the pain. Never ending, never ceasing, it seemed to get worse and worse.

_What was God doing to us?_

Finally the answer hit me like a lightening bolt. This wasn't heaven, and they weren't angels. It was hell, and this was our judgement. The Angel of Death had bit us while beautiful demons watched us and mocked us. My sister and I were to burn forever in the pits of hell. Looking up at the sky, I screamed and screamed.

*******

**JanePOV**

Blackness surrounded me as the lack of air made me pass out. But I wished more than anything I could have that back. I was woken with searing, scorching bites to my neck, wrists and ankles. It was a torture more intense than being torn apart, set on fire, drowned in salt water, and being buried alive. All of those would be more desirable than what my brother and I were going through.

I knew Alec and I were going through this together as he was lying on the bed next to me. We were definitely in a room of sorts, but I couldn't get any more details as my judgement was being impaired by pain. Eventually, I learned that we were holding hands, but the acid running wildly through my system was making all contact from the outside world void. There was no feeling in me but the pain. Screaming did no amount of good, but Alec and I did it anyway.

Alec always did have a better sense of self-control. He yelled less than I, but I was fully aware that he was in as much pain as I was in. Sometimes, he tried to comfort me with strained words, but he succumbed to the pain before there was much effect.

There was no God. No spiritual being worthy of worship would have developed such a pain as this. All that was my life now was fire and brimstone.

Why couldn't someone kill me now?

*******

Two days into the pain (was it that much? I could have sworn it was years and years that had passed) someone came to visit us. I had no idea who he was, but Alec grunted angrily at him, as though the pain was his fault. Never had I seen such beauty. But even with such good looks, it was hard to keep my attention focused on him. Slipping in and out of pain, I studied him.

His skin was beautiful, yet it looked strangely fragile and flaky. His hair was black and straight, yet appeared brittle, as though a single touch would turn everything to dust. Eyes alight with an odd sparkle, red as dried blood, they surveyed us with greed and enthusiasm.

In a voice that was oddly soothing and relaxing, he proceeded to introduce himself as _Aro_, head of the _Volturi _army. I have never heard of such an army, but if he commanded them, then he must be very powerful. I stayed as quiet I could, trying to muffle my cries, and listened for more.

Apparently he had been keeping an eye out for my brother and I for a very long time, but he waiting for us to age enough to "_change_". Whatever change he was talking about, I had no idea. He sadly noted that he wanted to "_collect_" mother as well but he didn't plan for the murder by the town. It was odd the way he spoke of us, like we were trinkets for buying and selling.

A faint bubble of fury welled up within me when the suspicions of the murder of my mother being planned by the townsfolk were confirmed, but quickly, nearly instantly, the bubble popped. Whether it was due to the scalding pain or the crushing knowledge that no amount of blame could ever bring mother back, I couldn't be sure of.

This man – could he be called that? – was scaring me with his fanciful words and stories. He told us of the existence of an entire new world, a world of mythical creatures of the night. He told us about an entirely hidden world of _vampires_.

Their bites transferred the venom into our blood and were slowly changing us from within. It sounded worse than a death sentence, but there was no action I could take at the moment. But it couldn't be true. Vampires were the stuff of folklore and legends. There was simply no way that this could come to pass into the realm of reality…

But what if it was?

*******

**A/N: ****Please review. I accept anything, comments, flames and or constructive critism. It'll help me as an author and that is one of my many goals. :-)**

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	2. Immortality

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any affiliated materials. *Shrugs*.**

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*******

**Nearly three days after they were rescued … only to experience the burning of transformation.**

**JanePOV**

The agony was receding. Just a little bit, but that was sometime that broke the tedium of what at first seemed like never ending pain. Alec was always beside me, trying to comfort me, when he was clearly as tortured as I. But when the pain was beginning to fade away from my toes and fingertips, my chest burned worse than before. _Was that even possible?_ I screamed in my head.

It was slightly comforting to know that Alec and I were in it together, but not by much. The agony was still indescribable, but it was fading, and that was something.

Aro barely left our room since our heartbeats sped up. How odd it was for me to be able to clearly hear not only my heartbeat, but my brother's as well. My sight was getting impeccably sharper and my sense of smell was increasing tenfold. In any other situation, I would be checking out the strength of my new senses but the pain in my chest was beyond words.

Magma, fire and acid had nothing on the pain welling up within my chest. I must have resembled a pile of charred bones at this point. My heartbeat seemed in sync with my brother's as at the same moment they sped up to an impossible tempo.

Simultaneously crying out in pain, our backs arched as the heartbeats nearly melded together into a hum. With a stuttering beat, it stopped. Everything stopped. No more pain, no more agony and no more heartbeats.

In wonder, I slowly sat up, scared that a sudden movement would cause the pain to attack me again. Everything was clear. Defined. It was as though I was seeing the world through another's eyes. All my senses were heightened beyond belief.

Was I now an angel sent to heaven? I mused quietly. Surely I was seeing the world through the Lord's eyes. Maybe the fires were our test and we passed!

In the first time in days, I looked over to my brother and saw _him_, instead a blur of a person through my haze of pain-induced tears.

Gasping, I realised he looked totally different. Such a dramatic change was impossible! Of course this was an impostor of sorts! I felt dirty to have held his hand all this time; I didn't even know his name.

Leaping out of the bed, I couldn't accept that this was Alec. He definitely was an impostor. No way could he be the rosy-cheeked child that was always there for me during my childhood. This copycat was as pale as a sheet and more handsome than my brother ever was.

Instinctively, I leapt out of the bed, hissing ferociously. Growls were coming out of me in torrents. Where was my brother? Why was this creep holding my hand?

His face was displaying the shock I was feeling and that was all I registered before I leapt at him and began to claw at his face. After a second of frozen shock, he fought back with equal fury. Before either of us got too far with our attacks, strong arms pried us apart. At first, there were only a few arms; not strong enough to tear us from one another. But more and more people came to break us up and enviably succeeded.

We were taken to separate parts of the room and we glared at one another. Strangely enough, I felt neither out of breath, nor worn out from the intense combat.

Some strange liquid welled up in my mouth, but instead of feeling disgusting, it felt right. Like an arm or a leg, I knew instinctively it was a part of my arsenal. The liquid had a distinct sweetness to it and was the consistency of saliva, but there was more of it.

The stranger, as beautiful as an angel with burning red eyes of a demon, seemingly was reacting the same to me; hissing, growling and other animalistic sounds were coming from the both of us.

A light, nearly sarcastic cough coming from the corner of the room alerted us both to the presence of Aro. Our heads whipped around to see him, but the movement was stilted, jerky, too fast for comfort.

I was startled immensely to see that he was, in fact, not alone. The pain had probably prevented me from realizing their presence. There was a small group collected there, guarding him, or standing slightly to the side. They were of different sizes and appearances.

The only thing tying them together as a group was their black, hooded, billowing robes and how their attention was focused on us as though we were telling an amusing story. Their eyes were all a dull red. Something stirred in my fading memory, but I could not pin point what. My past was trickling away fast. I feared that all I would soon lose everything that defined me.

At that moment, I was sure that I was not in heaven.

Walking from behind one of his henchmen – were they his guards? - Aro approached us with open arms and a large smile. But his eyes stayed cautious as he neared us.

I was fairly certain that I would not have recognised him if it were not for his trademark black hair and the smirk I grew to distaste over my days of pain. I could see the same power that seemingly followed him around like an aura. He looked the same, yet … more.

Did he always look like that? Maybe it was due to my new outlook on life, but he looked older than before. Almost glowing with power and confidence, yet seemingly fragile. It was slightly unnerving.

My heart felt an odd tug of loyalty and admiration towards him, and I was clueless as to why. Have I not known this man for barely several days, much of that time incapacitated in undeniable pain? Yet the loyalty tugged at my heart again, this time stronger than before. Respect also flooded my veins as I gazed upon his frame. These feelings were odd and uncalled for, yet they were there.

With curious eyes, I waited for him to begin his explanation. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. The feeling of breathing was off. There was no sense of relief following the action. Was there nothing left for me that was normal?

"Aha! You two turned out perfectly!" he cried out joyously as he clapped his hands together. Before he could say any more, I interrupted him.

"What have you done with Alec? Give my brother back to me!" I spat at Aro. A small, insignificant portion of my mind was impressed with my new voice; it was bell-like, tinkling, light. All in all, it was a truly beautiful sound. Yet it wanted to make me rip out my throat so I could get my old voice back.

"Jane?" said the man standing behind me in a quizzical voice. Ignoring him, I clenched my fists together and waited for Aro to provide me with some answers. I'll be damned if I just abandon Alec! Then the irony hit me as I realized that I could possibly be damned in Hell right now.

Aro chuckled, seemingly unsurprised with my outburst. "Jane, darling, he is standing right beside you," he said with a mildly amused tone of voice. His hands waved at the gap between us, waiting patiently for us to understand.

Looking at the stranger again, noticing he was cautiously mirroring my movements, my eyes raked over his form and I began to overcome the shock. There were similarities showing that the notion that this man was Alec.

Was it _him_? Was it Alec?

Hesitantly, he opened his arms and said, "Jane? Is that really you?"

Somehow, I knew it then and there that he was indeed my brother, my kin. Within a flash, I leapt into his arms and I began to dry sob into his shoulder. My speed and strength surprised his slightly, but he patted my back and made consolidating soothing noises.

I was surprised to learn that I couldn't cry. Had I used up all my tears?

There was an overriding feeling of guilt welling within me as I remembered that I leapt at him and fiercely attacked him. But with his soothing words, he was comforting me and I felt forgiven. We had more pressing matters to deal with.

Vaguely, I heard the people in the background shuffling, slightly uncomfortable with our rather public display of sibling affection. Aro's voice barely penetrated my brain, but he was saying something along the lines of, "Bring out the food. They must be thirsty beyond belief." It confused me, but I didn't care. There was comfort in my brother's arms, and I revelled in it.

Our moment was ruined with the most delicious scent permeating through the air. Sweeter than the honey of bees, more alluring than any flower's fragrance, the heads of my brother and I twisted around instantly to see where it was coming from.

It was so tempting, but with it came pain. My throat baked, it burned. Deserts surely contained more water than my throat. There was a drought in my mouth. A sandstorm must have been going on inside me without my knowledge for me to receive this kind of dry, burning feeling. A fire was in my neck, scorching and licking the sides. It was definitely nothing on the pain I experienced before, but certainly it hurt.

It was more than that though: it stang, it ached, it flared like nothing I had ever felt. There were not enough words to describe it. I had to end it. There had to be a cure to the fire.

I needed water. My eyes rapidly scanned the surroundings in the case there was a jug of cool water lying around. Alas, there was none.

What I would have given to have a glass of goat's milk, just the way mother made it – warm with a spoon of honey. With a panicked start, I noticed that it was hard for me to recall anything before the excruciating torture I had just endured. Every memory was rapidly deteriorating, blurring at the edges. However, my attention was quickly reclaimed by the scent before I could delve into this anymore.

The strange liquid was absolutely pooling in my mouth, and I had to constantly swallow to keep it at bay. Yet swallowing did nothing to help with the burns. If possible, it was making things worse. I noticed that Alec and I had broken apart, but I didn't care.

Though the doorway came two warm bodies, but I didn't even notice anything else before I instinctively leapt and ravaged their pulse points. A liquid sweeter than any elixir poured out and I drank eagerly. I wondered what I was drinking and how it was so delicious.

The small, insignificant, but logical side of my brain knew, and was horrified. But it didn't matter. The pyre in my throat had to be put out.

Several warm bodies fell before I was done. The burning was dulled incredibly, but not gone altogether. Drinking whatever it was that was so delicious from the creatures merely kept it at bay. Their cries barely pierced into my consciousness. Only when I stepped back did I realise that I was drinking blood from humans. Strangely the thought did not disgust me. In fact, I felt an odd sense of accomplishment.

That's right, I mused with surprise. I was a vampire now.

What have humans ever done to me except cause me pain? Even mother and father ripped out a part of my soul when they left me, when they left us. All I could remember of my human life was other human tormenting my brother and me for days on end. The good memories were trickling away as fast as I attempted to remember them. Surely that meant there was not that much good to begin with.

Finally I was strong enough to hurt those who hurt me. And throughout history, I would make sure all humans would pay for what the village did to my brother and I.

I was a vampire now. It was easy for me to accept that fact, and I revelled in it.

*******

**AlecPOV**

I stared in shock at my reflection. No wonder Jane had trouble accepting me for me. Though vanity was not something I was accustomed to – a fact I wasn't too sure on, thanks to my dwindling memory – my sheer beauty amazed me. It was definitely a good idea for a mirror to have been brought into this room.

My mind was working an immeasurable amount faster than before, yet I was still confused. There were so many things wrong with this. Not moments before, I had killed several people. Not just that, but I drank their blood. And I revelled in the clear, smooth, indescribable taste of it.

Now, I knew I should have been disgusted, but the blood distinguished the burning in my throat, and I did not want that burn to come back. Not only that but it was just so mouth-wateringly delicious. Its taste compared to no wine, no honey on this earth.

In a near literal sense, blood was the Fountain Of Youth. We would never age and we were expected to drink it for the rest of time. A part of me wished there was another way, one that needed no humans to die, but now that I had experienced the pure allure of the taste, the wonder that was human blood, I knew I could never change.

Aro was calming explaining things in the background; rules, how we had to stay out of sight and out of mind from humans, expectations of us, how we were to undergo training, and so forth. But all of this was registered and analysed by a very small portion of my mind. The larger part of my mind was again concentrating on my newfound face.

With a strange wonder, I hesitantly lifted a pale marble-like hand to my face and touched the cheek gently. From my peripheral vision, I could see Jane doing the same thing as I.

Jane was certainly as much of an angel to the eyes as I was. But her eyes were frightening and hollow. They were as red as mine, and when I first saw my own, I wanted nothing more than to gouge them out.

We were the very definition of evil and demons. This was not God's work. The hands of the Devil crafted us.

My little sister had changed so much, and not just in the physical sense. When she looked upon the bodies of the dead humans, drained and lifeless, being dragged out of the room, she glowed as though she was proud at her accomplishment.

Had she lost all her humanity? I still had enough decency to feel ashamed.

Another man entered the room. He was different. The skin of this man had an odd olive tone, but it matched his straight black hair. His eyes raked our forms and the corners of his lips lifted into a knowing smile. My sister and I watched him cautiously, our guards raised.

Aro grinned happily and began introductions, "Dear Jane and Alec! Please welcome my dear friend, Eleazar! He was the one who first discovered your potential!"

Before looking at Aro quizzically, Jane and I shared an intensely confused glance.

Aro shook his head knowingly and began with an apology, "Oh my, I skipped right through a lot of explanations! My apologies! No wonder you are confused. Let me explain. When we change from humans to vampires, we evolve more than just in the physical sense. Eleazar can explain better than anyone else here."

With a deep voice, and an accent I couldn't place, Eleazar respectfully started his speech, "Everything gets intensified when we change, our senses, our strengths, our personalities. Also, another thing we bring are ... powers."

He paused rather dramatically, gauging our responses. All I did was wait eagerly. Jane was huffing in impatience and irritation.

Sighing, he continued, "All gifts are unique. There might be someone with a similar gift, maybe weaker or stronger, but all in all, gifts are one of a kind. For example, Aro can read every thought that has ever passed through your mind with a single touch." At this new piece of information, there was a collective gasp from my sister and I.

Eleazar continued, "I have the ability to ... sense other vampires' abilities. If I were to concentrate, I can sense abilities in even humans, but they are weaker and underdeveloped. Alec and Jane, you both are gifted, even as humans."

There was nothing I could do. I was frozen in shock. Then my mind when haywire, quickly scanning millions of possibilities for me. Could I fly? Could I set things alight with my mind?

Hesitantly, Eleazar continued, "Firstly, Alec. You have a gift of sensory deprivation. Sight, sound, taste, touch, will all be obliviated under your control. No pain, no nothing. But beware; you cannot try to test this out on any of us. You will suffer the consequences if you try. We have some easily expendable people waiting for you to practise on. I think you'll soon agree to the fact that they deserve to be tested upon."

I was dazed. I could do that? It felt as though my mind was frozen, uncomprehending at all this new information. But then a bubble of excitement filled my gut when I thought of testing it out.

In an odd way, this was my dream – to be like mother, to stop pain. But if my desire was to stop the pain, what was Jane's?

He turned to his attention to Jane. "Jane, you are polar opposites with your brother. Halves of a whole you could say. Jane, you can _create _pain. When you were human, your power was a little different, but somehow, when you were burned at the stake, it intensified. You can make people wish for death with such extreme pain."

At this, Jane's face distorted into shame and she hurriedly looked down at her hands, scowling at them as though it was their fault. What a gift that was. But it was not in a good sense. What good can she do with such a gift?

Through her hair, I could see her mouth contorted into a sick smile. As though she was suddenly excited at the prospect of pain. I wasn't as shocked as I thought I would be. Though most of my memories were fuzzy, I knew Jane hurt animals and I would save them. That was the way it was then, and apparently now too.

"Jane, don't look so depressed!" cried out Aro excitedly. "Bring out the first individual!" he ordered to some large looking vampires. Turning his attention back to Jane, he said, "You'll like the little present I got you."

A human was being brought in. I knew it was a human immediately from the smell. My throat flared dimly – I just fed – but I still felt an instinctual tug in my body to attack and drain the very essence of life out of him. I was vaguely disgusted with myself, but I knew the taste of human blood and I knew I could never stop or resist it.

Then I recognised the helpless human. He was battered and bruised, but thankfully not bleeding openly. Hs arms were bound behind us and his head was lowered. In that split second, he looked up straight into my eyes. Vague memories let me recognise him. It was Miller.

Snarls were ripping out of my mouth as I tensed my body to rip his very being from limb to limb. He was the one that planned our mother's murder (Aro told us while we were changing) and he was the one that burned us. A reassuring hand was placed on my shoulder and I saw that Aro was inclining his head towards my sister.

The fury painted on my sister's face was indescribable. She too was tensing to pounce, but stopped as at that very moment, as Miller began to scream. His face was contorted in such misery and agony it was near unbearable. Jane and I straightened up immediately, shocked at his reaction.

Jane seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly looked over her shoulder to grin at me. When eye contact was broken, Miller began to relax, but shudders still racked his frame, aftershocks of pain.

Aro clapped his hands together and cried out, "Excellent! Excellent! I knew that keeping him alive for you two would pay off. Now all we need to do is get young Jane here to learn to control it. Jane, can you please try and think about hurting him again?"

Quickly, Jane did as she was bid, her face scrunched up in concentration and Miller cried out in agony again, except it wasn't as loud as before. At this, her face broke out into an evil grin. Aro smiled and told her to continue. Miller was begging for mercy, begging for death.

"Please, mercy! No more!" he cried out like it was a mantra. Tears were running down is face, and sobs made his entire frame shake as though it was vibrating.

I spat at him. "Why should we show mercy when you did nothing of the like to my sister and I? Why should Jane stop when you killed our mother?"

His face lit up in understanding. "Alec? Jane? _THE WITCH TWINS?_ I was right! You _are_ the spawn of the devil!" he yelled in a scared tone. "Curse you all to Hell and beyond the reaches of God and all that is holy!" Miller struggled to get up and with that I kicked him in the ribs, creating a satisfying crunching noise, and retreated with a disgusted expression.

Usually when some creature my sister was hurting cried out like how Miller just did, I would help them. But I no longer wished to assist this time. He was no better than the dirt beneath our feet.

Jane glanced at me briefly and I knew she was looking for approval before she would harm him again. Hesitating for no more than a fraction of a second, I nodded and she turned around to practice.

She was grinning, and it was easy to see why. Her gift was good for revenge. Better than mine. The other vampires were watching this interaction with interest, but I paid them no mind.

I leaned against the damp walls and listened to his screams. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched him thrash around.

There was no pity in me.

*******

**A/N: Okay, I wanted to write a past for them, so as to justify their actions a little bit and to draw out some sympathy for their characters. Hopefully, it worked.**

**I sort of wanted to convey that in their lives, all they can remember is that humans have caused pain to them and their loved ones. So it kind of explains their actions towards people.**

**Please tell me what you think with**_** honest **_**reviews. I wrote this to expand my horizons as an author and so I want feedback to see if it worked. Cookies for reading! :-)**


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